A Sort of Commune - Draft 2

THIS IS ALSO AVAILABLE AS A RTF FILE

I huddled in the window seat, my private haven when the curtains were closed and stared at the flashes of color rolling in the snow. Some kids from school were at the park across the street making snow angels. I could see puffs of breath as they jumped up to throw hand-fuls of powder at each other, and flung themselves to sink into the drifts again. My own breath clouded the window gray like the sky, as I lowered my head into a Nancy Drew novel.

I could hear Chris and my mom laughing together in the kitchen, where they were making Christmas dinner. Chris' deep roar echoed over Mom's soft giggle, and I could picture his belly shaking, like his happiness heaved out of him. Chris, one of six living here, was a bearded giant who drove racecars in his prime. The accident that ended his career had taken his left leg off at the knee, replaced by a wooden attachment.

This wooden piece, and its point of attachment, fascinated me to the point of obsession. I'd stared at Chris' leg, imagining under his jeans the possibilities of its appearance.

"Melody Ann," my mom had sighed exasperated,"I think that you're making Chris uncomfortable, and I know that I'm uncomfortable, so please stop "Yeah honey, if you're curious, just ask!" Chris bellowed.

Cautiously, I'd asked how the wooden leg was attached, and was presented with a detailed account of his accident, surgery, therapy and current abilities. Mom left the room during the bloody parts of the story, so Chris and I finished the talk alone. Chris was quiet then huskily said, "I'm not trying to scare you, honey, I just want to be honest. I thought I was immortal, and my crash made me see life differently. Id like to learn a lot while I'm alive." We sat there in silence for awhile when I finally asked. "What does immortal mean?" "Go look it up in the dictionary, honey, that's what it's for."

I walked across the darkened, living room to the fish tank, watching diamond-shaped shadows swim along the wall. Tiny eyes popped up greedily as I opened the lid, like beakless baby birds gobbling the air. I knew it! My fish were starving to death because none of the hippies I lived with cared if they died!

Hippies was what Aaron Barber had called them the day school got out for vacation. She had blocked my way out of the playground with one hand on her hip and the other twirling a long, blonde curl. "I heard that your mom and daddy are divorced, and you live with a bunch of hippies." Aaron drawled, her blue eyes narrowing. "Did they get divorced because of you, or because your mom is a slut and likes living with a lot of people?"

She turned giggling to a group of girls nearby, and they giggled nervously in return. My face burned and I couldn't see clearly as I pushed Aaron away and ran. I heard her yell after me, "Why are you so excited for Christmas? I bet you don’t even believe in God! I bet you just smoke pot with your weird, hippie family!"

The front door slammed, and Kim, Maggie and Bev came thundering up the stairs, loaded with packages. I confronted Kim at the top with my hands on my hips. "Why didn't you feed my fish today? They were almost dead!"

"Because they're your fish, my sweet niecey," she cooed, pushing her way by. I followed the group down the hall to Maggie's bedroom, still with my hands on my hips, unsatisfied with the confrontation.

"Why are you all coming in here?" I demanded.

Bev screwed her face up in a snarl and cackled, "We have secrets my dearie, and potions to mix!"

"I bet you're going to smoke pot, huh!" I snorted.

She smiled, "Well, that too, but we've decided to wrap our gifts this year, if that's ok with you, love."

I stormed down the stairs to my room, slammed the door, then sighed remembering my mom considered door-slamming a healthy expression of anger. It figured! She probably considered this disaster area of a room a healthy expression of something too! It had taken me forty-five minutes of deliberate destruction to create this mess, and no one had even said anything about cleaning it up.

The tears that had been threatening all day poured down my face. I heard my mom's knock, two soft beats, and choked, "C.C.Come Innn ..." She sat on the bed and held my hand while I sobbed out the past few weeks worth of troubles in spastic fragments. She held me, rubbing my back as she spoke. "Melody, I know that sometimes it's difficult dealing with new, or in our case, unusual settings. You're surrounded by five very different people, and I hope you are learning something from everyone, both as individuals and collectively." She kissed me and stood to leave. "And Melody, this room makes me want to throw up, so I suggest you clean it before I ground you for life."